


Gods of Hockey

by brightnail



Series: Gods of Hockey [4]
Category: American Gods - Neil Gaiman, Hockey RPF
Genre: Crossover, F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-11-30 16:23:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 19,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11467251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightnail/pseuds/brightnail
Summary: With time, fans become followers and cheers become worship. With time, players become gods.





	1. Answered Prayers

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you everyone for your feedback! It seemed pretty unanimous that the series would be easier to read as one story, so the ficlets have been combined into one chaptered story. This was originally inspired by binge watching American Gods, but has grown its own universe over time. I hope you enjoy it!

Sidney watched the kid skate during practice. He was still wearing the no contact jersey, but Sidney knew it was just a matter of time before the team doctors would give the kid the all clear, and he would be back playing the game he loved with no limitations. And Sidney knew how much the kid loved hockey, could feel the warmth and passion of that love radiating all the way from across the ice and into the top row of the stadium seating where Sidney sat watching. Sidney closed his eyes and basked in the warmth of that love, feeling taller and more expansive just from being near the source of it.

“Sid helping Flyer’s rookie? What happened to rivalry?”

Sidney opened his eyes again and turned his head to meet Geno’s gaze. “I go where I’m needed,” he said simply.

Geno scoffed, “Everyone need Sid. But Sid choose littlest Flyer to heal. I wonder why.”

Sidney looked back to the rookie. He was so very young, only 19. He was all long limbs and not enough bulk, made more for speed than power at the moment. He was tall though, with floppy brown hair and a prominent nose. His smile was mischievous as he deked around the player in front of him before passing to another teammate. The player he tricked cursed him out in English, which Sidney knew the kid probably didn’t understand completely, but he still snapped back a cheerful rejoinder in Russian before speeding off.

“Let’s just say he reminded me of someone,” Sidney smiled. “I hope I’m not stepping on your toes here. He’s one of yours?”

“Yes. Is fine,” Geno assured, “Heal all my players, is okay. I just die, waste away with no prayers.”

Sidney turned his whole body to face Geno. “What… are you losing followers? I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to try to convert anyone-”

“Is fine, is fine!” Geno interrupts. “Just kidding. Still plenty of sacrifice, plenty of players giving up home and family for NHL.”

Sidney remained worried. He knew that Geno received fewer prayers than him, that his followers had to fit a more rigid criterion. Geno was a god of NHL dreams and sacrifice, the god of travelers who left their homes and all they knew for a chance at something greater, the god of foreigners in a new land, facing a new culture and language all for their love of hockey and dreams of something more.

There were many hockey gods, and more born each year. With such a passionate following, with hundreds of thousands of fans chanting the names of their team, their players, their gods, the hope and despair of those fans turned into prayers, into worship, and empowered their gods further.

“I share with Sid littlest Flyer.” Geno continued, “Sid better at healing.”

“Well I would hope so.” Sid grumbled. He was after all the god of hockey second chances, of hockey injuries and recovery, the god of overcoming expectations and limits all for the love of the game.

Out on the ice, the trainer called a short break and the players skated in to listen to the trainers instructions for their next drill. Sidney watched the rookie pant before he took a drink from his water bottle. Sidney idly scanned him, making sure he had healed all of the concussion symptoms. In the back of his mind, he could hear all of the prayers that were directed his way. He singled out the prayers of the Flyer’s rookie, hearing him mentally promise that he would stay an extra hour in practice, a sacrifice of time and energy dedicated to Sidney, in thanks for his help and healing.

Sidney nodded with satisfaction. It was good to see that the newest generation of players knew the proper forms of sacrifice and worship.

“Sid want to take break from stalking littlest Flyer?” Geno asked.

Sidney focused back on the god next to him. “Oh?” he inquired, “What did you have in mind?”

Geno seemed to materialize two hockey sticks, one of them clearly Sidney’s with its lack of pronounced curve. “Flower is getting bored. Says he miss playing and is becoming old, rusty god of goalies with no one to play against.”

Sid smiles, “Well, we can’t have that. Price could steal all his followers and proclaim himself king of the goalie gods.”

“Can’t have that,” Geno agrees.

Sid reaches out his hand and closes it over the stick, feeling a rush of power flow through him, like he always did when he touched an icon of his dominion. The prayers in his mind got sharper, clearer. He could hear a girl in the WHL praying for a teammate who had sprained her wrist. He could hear a woman praying for her son, who at 5 years old was just starting hockey. The mother prayed for his safety in the game. He could hear a high school player in juniors, praying for luck and safety after he had a close call with a bad collision into the boards. He could hear so many things, prayers for help, worship and sacrifices of thanks, and even curses from some who felt they were done an injustice. It could get so very loud some times.

Everything quieted when Sid felt a hand close over his on the hockey stick.

He suddenly felt a rush of a completely different kind, when Geno’s hand lingered on the stick, his fingers softly brushing across Sid’s knuckles before letting go. Sidney met Geno’s eyes again and experienced another flush of warmth and love that had nothing to do with hockey. Geno grinned at him, his hand coming up to brush through Sidney’s hair, before the fingers then trailed behind his ear and down his jaw. Sidney leaned into the caress.

“I think Flower can wait a few hours for us,” Sidney stated, head still tilted into Geno’s hand.

“Yes.” Geno agreed, his thumb brushing over Sidney’s bottom lip.

After all, there were many different forms of worship.


	2. New Covenant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Such are the deals made between gods.

Sidney practiced his stick handling with only the bare minimum of focus, far more of his attention on the player practicing at the other end of Kettler Capitals Iceplex. Sidney listened to the player's prayer as he watched him huff to catch his breath. The morning optional skate had ended an hour and half ago, but the man was still working on his shooting practice, calling out a corner and then shooting for it. Sidney nodded his head, respecting the hard work and determination he could read in the movements, in the shots themselves, and in the hands that fiercely gripped the stick, as though daring the world to try to come pry it from the player’s hold.

‘ _I’m not done yet_.’ The prayer insisted in Sidney’s mind, ‘ _Please, god, I’m not ready yet_.’ Sidney knew that the player’s wrists ached, and so did his knees. His ankles weren’t much better. All the joints were deteriorating, casualties to a hard life and a hard game, played for almost four decades. Sidney smiled. There was still such passion alive in the man.

“Devon,” called a trainer, “Bring it in man. That’s enough. You don’t want to wear yourself out for the game tomorrow.”

‘ _Why does it matter._ ’ The prayer continued morosely, ‘ _They aren’t going to play me. Any day now I’ll be heading down to the Hershey Bears. God, just one more season, please!_ ’

“Yeah,” Devon called out. “Just a minute. I’ll be right there.”

“Ten minutes,” the trainer sighed, “more than that and I’m dragging you off the ice myself.” The trainer left with a shake of his head.

Sidney nodded. He had seen everything he needed to. He skated over to the man just as his knee gave a horrible spasm, causing him to almost drop to the ice. Sidney got there just in time to catch him under his arm and help the player regain his balance.

“Easy there,” Sidney said, even as he sent his power into the man, strengthening battered ligaments and cartilage, reinforcing joints, healing hairline weakness in bones, and smoothing over frayed muscles. “Easy…”

“Oh, woah…” The man said, suddenly sounding a bit drunk. Sidney’s healing often had that side effect. Suddenly finding one’s self with an absence of pain could give off quite a high. “What was that?”

“You’re just feeling a bit tired. You need to get going right? You have a game to rest up for. I think it’s going to be the best game you’ve had in a long time.”

“The game, yeah…” Devon nodded his head a little too emphatically, almost knocking his head into Sidney’s chin.  “I should go…”

Sidney smiled as he watched the man skate off the ice toward the locker rooms. Tomorrow would be the start of his comeback, his second chance. It was only after he played tomorrow’s game that he would fully understand the change that had taken place. Sidney looked forward to Devon’s prayers after his realization tomorrow. He was a good man, and a good hockey player. He would have more than just his requested one more season.

“So sad!” Boomed an incredibly irritating voice from behind Sidney. “Such blatant poaching Sidney Crosby!”

Sidney groaned. He should have known this would happen.

“When Zhenya tells me Sidney Crosby is poaching followers, I say to him, “No Zhenya, it cannot be! Not the hockey god of healing.” But he tells me, “Yes Sanja, yes, he is poaching.” And here I find you, just like Zhenya says.” Ovechkin shakes his head sadly at Sidney.

“I’m not poaching!” Sidney snaps back immediately. He should know better than to engage with Ovechkin though.

“Then Zhenya tells me,” Ovechkin continues, speaking right over Sidney, “he says, “Scariest part is that Sidney Crosby doesn’t even realize he is poaching!” ”

“Geno did not say that!”

Ovechkin just keeps talking, “ “This is why I am so tired Sanja. I have been trying to distract him with sex!” ”

“Oh my god…”

“ “But it is no use! He is too mad with power! He stores all of his stolen power in giant ass! That is why it is so big-” ”

Sidney fired the puck directly at Ovechkin’s face. Unfortunately, Ovechkin was able to dodge it. Sidney could feel his face heated a bright red. “You are the worst excuse for a god!”

“Is that why you are poaching followers from me?”

“I am not,” Sidney says slowly, “poaching your followers!”

Ovechkin makes an emphatic hand gesture toward the locker room where Devon had disappeared to.

“Oh,” Sidney said, brought up short, “Um, that follower.”

Ovechkin pointed to himself, “God of Capitals.”

Sidney groaned, “You can’t just claim all Capitals!”

Ovechkin snorted, “As though you and Zhenya wouldn’t have claimed all Penguins if Lemieux was not around.”

“Mario is not the god of Penguins. He’s the god of winners,” and Sidney would know, because he prayed to Mario his entire career back when he was human, “And if you can claim all Capitals, then we are all poaching from Gretzky!”  Gretzky was the first god of hockey, and remained the Great One.

Ovechkin looked at Sidney slyly, “But you do admit that you are here poaching.”

Sidney winced before adding grudgingly, “I guess I could have, maybe, let you know I was hearing a Capitals’ prayers. But I couldn’t just ignore him!” This was not the first time that Sidney’s followers overlapped with another god’s. It certainly wouldn’t be the last either.

Ovechkin grinned, “Is fine. I’ll forgive you since you help make Caps stronger. We play Penguins tomorrow after all.”

Sidney scowled at that. It was hard not to have a special place in his heart for his old team. But unlike Ovechkin, Sidney didn’t feel the possessive need to own his former human team.

“Besides,” Ovechkin went on brightly, “He might think I’m the one who heal him.”

“Right,” Sidney said dryly, “Because you are so known for your healing.” Ovechkin was much more known for pranking his followers as a trickster god, and his love for sacrifices in the form of good Russian vodka.

Ovechkin pouted, which looked frankly ridiculous on him. “So mean, Sidney Crosby. Would think you would be in a better mood with all of the sex you and Zhenya are having.”

“Please stop talking about my sex life.”

“No fun! And Zhenya was just telling me what fun you can be when the two of you-”

“Enough! I promise to talk to you before I heal any Capitals if you will never speak of my sex life again.”

Ovechkin agreed.

Such is the covenant between gods. Sidney despaired. He was going to be having a very serious talk with Zhenya about getting drunk on sacrificial vodka with Ovechkin.


	3. Small Blessings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sidney was a merciful god but he was also a cautious one.

Sidney looked up at the hospital from his place outside the emergency room doors. He had been called to the hospital on a prayer, but it was not the normal kind that he typically responded to. Sidney was a merciful god - being a god of healing and second chances naturally came with a certain amount of mercy – but he was also a cautious god. He liked to thoroughly research his followers before he enacted any miracles for them. He wanted to know the character of his supplicants prior to answering their prayers. It had gotten him a bit of a reputation as being cold hearted or fickle at times. However, if one of his followers went from praying to then cursing his name in the same breath, because he did not immediately bestow the blessings they wanted, Sidney saw that as faithlessness anyway.

He had avoided many pitfalls that may have snared other gods, through his caution. A faithless follower could be poison to a weak god. Perhaps Sidney could be more powerful if he slung around the miracles a bit more readily, but power had never been what motivated Sidney. Love had. Love of hockey. And yes, there were certainly plenty of assholes that Sidney had healed or blessed in his time as a god, but even the biggest bastard among them had to have a core of pure love for the game.

‘ _Crosby!_ ’ Sidney winced as the pray shouted in his mind, ‘ _I need you here!_ ’ There was only one reason that a prayer would reverberate with such power in his mind. Sidney was being prayed to by another god.

The prayer’s voice was female, and vaguely familiar. If it hadn’t been, Sidney is not sure if he would even have responded, let alone come. Sidney tried to avoid other gods (outside of a select few), because he did not want to get drawn into any drama, politics, or conflicts. Healing gods were always in high demand, both among mortals and gods. Last time Sidney had been involved with other gods, outside of the gods of Hockey, he had almost been forcibly recruited into a war between the gods of Soccer and the gods of Golf. He’d rather not experience that again. Who knew the gods of Golf could be so devious?

‘ _Crosby!_ ’

‘ _Yes, alright!_ ’ Sidney sent back to the prayer. In mortals it would usually be in the form of a godly vision. ‘ _I’m here._ ’

‘ _5 th floor and hurry! There isn’t much time left!_’

Oh, this did not sound good. Geno would laugh at him forever if he got taken hostage by another rogue god (Thanks for that one Tiger Woods).

When he reached the 5th floor, Sidney noted that it was the neonatal intensive care unit. Turning the corner, he noticed a familiar blond figure. “Wickenheiser?”

Hayley Wickenheiser turned to him, relieved. “Thank the Great One, you made it in time.” She immediately grabbed Sidney’s wrist in a strong grip and yanked him down the hall and through a door. Inside was a woman who had clearly recently given birth, She was asleep in a chair while one of her hands rested on an enclosed incubation unit, where rested one of the smallest baby’s Sidney had ever seen.

Sidney’s heart broke a little as he was pulled up the unit. Wickenheiser let go of his wrist once he was standing in front of the child. “Heal him,” she said firmly.

Looking at the baby, Sidney could see that he was clearly born premature. It was already miraculous that the child had survived to this point. Sidney stared at the flow of life around the child, seeing a slight aura around him, actually anchoring the baby’s spirit to its body. Sidney stepped back, horrified, before he looked back at Wickenheiser and could see that she was the one anchoring the child.

“What are you doing?” Sidney asked, alarmed. “You’ve tied your power directly to the child’s life force. That could drain you dry!”

“Then hurry up,” Wickenheiser said, “and heal him.”

Sidney shook his head. “I can’t. He isn’t mine and neither is his mother. They haven’t prayed to me. I have no dominion over him.”

Wickenheiser groaned and Sidney felt like he could see her getting weaker. He tried to reason with her. “You have to release the anchor.”

“No!” She said firmly. “Not until you heal him.”

“Why does it matter?” Sidney didn’t mean to sound cold hearted, but it was one mortal child. Why was the goddess of hockey trailblazers anchoring herself to this baby? “He isn’t yours either!”

“No,” Wickenheiser agreed, “but his mother is.”

Sidney looked back at the woman asleep in the chair. “No,” Wickenheiser said again, “his other mother.” She pointed outside the viewing window, where a woman was pacing, clearly upset. “She’s mine.” There was such clear joy in the words. Sidney looked at the woman more closely, seeing the Kings crown emblem on her sweatshirt.

“I heard,” Sidney said carefully, “there was a woman who passed the King’s training camp this year.”

Even as the power continued to drain out of her, Wickenheiser smiled with fierce pride. “Yes, she’ll be the first woman to play in the NHL.” She lost her smile, “Or she would have been, but she’s currently calling the King’s front office to say she is going to miss the first few games in order to be with her wife and her son. Who. Is. Dying.”

Sidney frowned, “I still don’t have dominion here.”

“That is bullshit and you know it,” Wickenheiser snapped. “This isn’t about dominion, it’s about choice. You have one. You can choose to save a child’s life and watch his mother move the NHL into the future, or you can watch him die and the NHL stagnate.”

Sidney looked at Wickenheiser seriously. “If I do this, heal outside my bounds, you know what it will mean.”

Wickenheiser grimaced, “I’m sorry Sid. I know this puts you in a bad situation. But you’re all I’ve got.”

Sidney eyed her silently for a moment. Then he turned and laid his hands on the incubator. Sidney looked down at the child as he let his power flow out of him and into the small body before him. He healed organs and bones, blood and cartilage. There was so much help that the child needed. Healing outside of his dominion meant that no part of the power came from prayer or outside sacrifices. Instead the power came purely from Sidney and the faith and self awareness that he had in himself. It limited his power, but it was still enough to heal the child easily. No, the danger came from the message it sent - that he was willing to use his power outside his followers.

 It sent a message to other gods that he was a player in a much broader game than just hockey.

Sidney felt Wickenheiser withdraw her anchor once the child was healing and soon Sidney was done. The baby was still so small, but he was whole and healthy now, with a full future spreading out before him. As much trouble as Sidney would no doubt face from this, he was happy to see the child live.

“Thank you Sid.” Wickenheiser said, clearly relieved.

“You’re going to owe me a favor.” Sidney said in return. That was how gods worked, one favor for another.

Wickenheiser just nodded, following Sidney out the door. She stopped however, when she reached her player. “Go be with your family.” Wickenheiser told her, “Your son is going to be fine.”

Sidney turned away. He would keep an eye out for the woman, and an ear out for any future prayers. The NHL could do with taking a step forward.

For now though, Sidney just wanted to go find Geno to complain to. He’d laugh at him for getting suckered into helping Wickenheiser, but he would also tell Sidney he did the right thing. After all, Geno’s soft heart was one of the things Sidney loved about him the most.


	4. Divine Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life itself can be a game between gods.

Sidney almost felt like he was on a timer. Call him paranoid, but as soon as he healed outside his dominion, it felt like the world would know it. He took great pains to stay neutral, to not get tied up in politics and conflicts, but he had now left his neutral position and it was like announcing that he could be swayed to join other causes.

He couldn’t doubt himself though, or regret his choice to heal the child. All he could do was move forward and prepare himself for any godly petitioners that may come calling.

He really needed to talk to Geno.

With that in mind, Sidney closed his eyes and focused on his connection to his lover. They were so tied up in each other, had even risen to godhood together, that an unshakable bond had been forged between them. Sidney and Geno would always be able to find each other, no matter where on earth they were. And Geno was currently… in Sweden?

Sidney opened his eyes. He called up his power, focused on where he needed to be, as he would when responding to a prayer, and stepped forward. One moment he was in California, the next he was in Stockholm, Sweden. Geno had followers all over the world, though they were primarily in North America and Russia. Anywhere there was a player leaving their home for a chance at their dreams in hockey, Geno was there to help them adapt and succeed.

While Sid’s power focused on healing, Geno’s focused on adaption and learning. He was able to help his followers understand new languages and cultures faster, ease homesickness, and find success both on the rink and in their lives. Sidney always admired Geno’s power, because it was so much less straight forward than his own, but made such a huge difference in his player’s quality of life.

Sidney entered Hovet Arena, feeling his connection to Geno blossom wider and warmer as he drew closer. The Djurgårdens IF were clearly in the middle of a game, facing off with the Brynäs IF in a heated match. Geno was seated down behind the home bench, and Sidney quickly joined him.

Geno glanced at him with a smile, “Sid!” Geno patted a seat next to him that just happened to be available in an otherwise crowded stadium. “Come to heal?”

“No, just came to see you.” Sidney told him, which got him an even more blinding smile than the first.

“Come, sit down, you watch little follower with me.”

Sidney sat and looked where Geno was pointing. There was a young Asian man sat on the Djurgårdens IF bench. As Sidney watched there was a line change and the young man leapt over the boards and immediately took off after the puck. He was small. The top of his head would probably only reach Sidney’s nose (or Geno’s collarbone), but he was quick. Sidney felt nervous for the kid when a Brynäs IF player came at him with a vicious check. Luckily, Geno’s little follower was fast enough to come under the player’s guard and avoid the check, passing the puck quickly to his line mate. Moments later, Sidney cheered along with the rest of the home fans as Geno’s player and one of his teammates showed off a perfect tick-tack-toe play and shot the puck in over the Brynäs IF goalie’s glove hand.

Geno nodded with satisfaction. “He come to NHL next year. Be good winger for Stars.”

“And I’m sure he will settle in well,” Sidney said fondly, “With you looking after him.”

Geno gave Sidney an affectionate look before turning back to look at his player with pride. It reminded Sidney very strongly of how Hayley Wickenheiser had looked at her player, back at the hospital. “He has been praying to me since he was little boy,” Geno told him.

“Well, he chose the right god to watch over him then,” Sidney said loyally.

“Aw, Sid being so sweet,” Geno cooed, giving Sidney a loud smacking kiss to the cheek. He pulled back and then looked at Sidney shrewdly. “Maybe too sweet. Sid do something stupid?”

Why did Sidney have to love such a perceptive asshole?

“Maybe,” Sidney admitted. “But it was for a good reason.”

“Okay,” Geno nodded agreeably, as though he didn’t doubt that Sid had a good reason for whatever stupid thing he had done. “What happen? What you need me to do?” Ah yes, that was one of the many reasons why he loved this asshole.

Sidney explained the situation with Wickenheiser, and the baby, and the female LA Kings player. Geno took it all in, only laughing at Sidney a little about how Wickenheiser trapped him in a corner, before stating simply, “You did the right thing.”

“Yeah?” Sidney asked, feeling a little needy at seeking reassurance.

Geno brushed some hair off of Sidney’s forehead, before leaning forward and giving him a soft kiss there. It felt like a benediction. “Yeah,” He agreed softly.

“And if another god decides to make trouble,” Sidney asked, “because I healed outside my realm of power?”

“We deal with, like always.” Geno said, suddenly cloaking himself in the mantel of his power, seeming somehow taller, and broader, and just _more_. The people around them seemed to shrink back, distantly aware of the godly power in their midst, like something warning them deep within their animal brain that there was a predator nearby. Then, a moment later, Geno seemed to wrap himself back into his human shell, and fade back out of their awareness.

“Or we tell Flower,” Geno said happily, “and Tanger, and _Kuni_.”

Sidney winced at the last name. The hockey god of underdogs could be vicious if his friends were threatened in any way (just ask the gods of Gulf, who had certainly found that out first hand).

“Yeah,” Sidney agreed, “And probably best not to borrow trouble until something happens.”

As though those words were a jinx (and Sidney should have known better than to jinx himself), a godly prayer reverberated in his mind.

‘ _Heads up Crosby_ ,’ Wickenheiser warned in his mind, ‘ _I’ve been looking into the flow of power around my player Beverly’s wife and her son, and I’m pretty sure there was some godly interference that led to the car crash that pushed her wife into premature labor._ ’

Sidney’s stomach dropped as he parsed out what that meant. He spoke aloud to Geno, “When I healed that baby, I don’t think I sent out a message saying I was ready to play games with other gods. I’m pretty sure I was instead playing my opening move.”

Someone didn’t want Wickenheiser’s female player - Beverly apparently – playing hockey in the NHL. And Sidney had thwarted their first move in their attempt to stop her. That meant that Sidney had just made himself an enemy that he knew nothing about.

Great. Well, if this person wanted to mess with _hockey_ , and stop the NHL from moving forward, then they would have made an enemy of Sidney anyway. Sidney firmed his resolve. He was not going to let politics and manipulation interfere with the game he loved.

 If this other god wanted to play, then Sidney would just have to win.


	5. Gospel Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even gods needed someone to call on for information.

Sidney liked to make plans. He liked research. He liked being prepared. He did not like waiting for some unknown god to make a move against him. To be fair, he didn’t know that the god viewed him as an enemy at this point, but since Sidney planned to stand against him, he wanted to take the proactive approach to the situation. What Sidney needed, was more information. Sadly, that meant he had to visit the voice of the voiceless, the hockey god of the outspoken – or as Sidney tended to think of him, the _gossip god_.

“Geno,” Sidney groaned, “I think I need to go see P.K.”

Geno just laughed at him, because he was a bastard like that.

“And you’re coming with me.” Sidney continued.

Geno stopped laughing.

 

Geno and Sidney found P.K. Subban is a sports bar in Ottawa. Alarmingly, he was sitting alone, but giggling to himself. Geno subtly pushed Sidney forward and made him slide into the booth across from P.K.

“Bathroom,” Geno then said quickly, and walked away.

“Coward,” Sidney grumbled.

“Sid!” P.K. said happily. “Welcome man! Let me buy you a beer.”

“No thanks,” Sidney said quickly, before P.K. could wave over a waitress. “I’m not staying long.”

“Sure, yeah, of course.” P.K. agreed easily, “You’ve got that christening later.”

“What christening? No, wait, never mind!” Sidney leaned back, as though that would stop P.K.’s power from kicking in.

 “Too slow!” P.K. grinned, “In an hour you’re going to receive a prayer from a couple lovely ladies that want you to bless their son. Apparently you already saved his life and healed him, so they’re planning to dedicate him under your name.” P.K. held out his hand. “Pay up.”

This is why Sidney hated coming to P.K. for information. He may have been an invaluable source, but nothing came free. Sidney grabbed P.K.’s hand. P.K.’s eyes unfocused as he delved into the secret places in Sidney’s mind, drawing out information that he would have rather not shared. P.K. giggled again, “Oh man, where did Malkin even find panties that fit your big a-”

Sidney yanked his hand back, “Okay, that’s enough!”

“Hey man,” P.K. said with a rather alarming smile, “At least black is a slimming color.”

“Right.” Sidney tried to forcibly push down his embarrassment. P.K. was the hockey god for people who either didn’t have the ability to speak out for themselves, or those that others tried to silence because of their outspokenness. When it came to mortals, he had the ability to know what was important to them, or what was secret, or what was hurting them. Most often he used his power to help players that were being abused and made to keep silent, or to give courage and comfort to those that did speak up and received negative treatment for it.

When it came to fellow gods however, P.K. had to be allowed in to receive information. His way of receiving that permission was by trading information for information. It meant for Sidney though, that he could not ask any questions he did not then want to exchange his own secrets for.

Sidney refocused on the question that he wanted to ask. “I have a question for you.”

“Okay,” P.K. said. “Shoot.”

He needed to make sure that the question covered as much ground as possible. Vague enough to have the best chance of helping him narrow in on the god that was Sidney’s new enemy, But also specific enough to be useful.

“There is a god that tried to hurt a player’s family,” Sidney said slowly. “He wanted to stop the player, a female rookie for the Kings, from playing in the NHL. What can you tell me about the situation?”

P.K.’s eyes unfocused again as he drew up the information he knew on the subject. “There was a car accident,” He said. “Godly interference was to blame. The player was supposed to die in the car crash, but her wife let her sleep in. The wife was on her way to pick up breakfast. The brakes didn’t work. The car ran into traffic and t-boned another car. The trauma of the accident sent her into premature labor.”

P.K.’s eyes focused back on Sid, “You saved the child. You healed outside your range of influence.”

Sidney nodded.

P.K.’s eyes became unfocused once more, “This was not the first player to be targeted. Other women who had the potential to join the NHL have died or been crippled. Almost twenty in all.” P.K. hissed out a breath, “One of them was only fifteen.”

P.K.’s eyes focused on Sidney once more. “I can’t tell you who the god is Sid, but I can tell you that he will try to hurt that player again. If you stick close to her, he’ll have to show himself.”

Sidney nodded. He held his hand out again so P.K. could take his payment, but P.K. waved him off.

“Next time man,” P.K. told him, “I’ve got enough from you this time.”

Sidney didn’t like to owe anyone, as a rule, but he’d take it this time.

“Thanks,” Sidney told him, “I should go tell Geno he can stop hiding in the bathroom.”

“No no,” P.K. grinned, “Let me go get him for you.”

Five minutes later Geno almost ran out of the bathroom. “Sid worst,” Geno told him, “Thought it was you knocking, asked how it go.”

Sidney chuckled, “What did he get from you for that question?”

“He know about nighttime cup celebration from 2017.”

 Sidney’s whole face flushed. “Let’s get out of here.”

As soon as they left the bar, Sidney zeroed in on a prayer.

‘ _This is my first time praying to you_ ,’ the woman said, ‘ _but it seems like a good time to start. I know what you did for my son. Thank you so much for saving him. Thank you. I can’t… I can’t even tell you what it means. Um, Suzanne, my wife, and I talked.  We want to dedicate him to you. We want you to be his patron god. We are planning to have a small christening held in your name here at the hospital in an hour. I just… yeah… thanks._ ’

Sidney knew that it was the female King, Beverly. He smiled. She had prayed to him. She was dedicating her son to him.

That meant that she was within his dominion now. That meant that they were _his_. The Great One help the god that thought he could harm them when they were now Sidney’s.

“Come on Geno,” Sidney said happily, embarrassment completely forgotten. “We have a christening to go to.”


	6. Holy Union

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One hockey goddess was trouble. Five hockey goddesses was a war party.

Sidney was not a god who was easily intimidated. He had faced down enough other gods, monsters, mortals, and reporters in his time that there were few things that gave him pause. However, when Sidney and Geno walked in to the hospital’s special baptismal chamber where Beverly and Suzanne would be dedicating their son in his name, and found five hockey goddesses already in the room… Well, Sidney briefly considered turning around and leaving. One hockey goddess was enough trouble, but five hockey goddesses was a war party.

“Sidney,” Hayley Wickenheiser said waving him and Geno over. “Good, you’re here. Maybe we can nail down some plans before the girls arrive. They’ve been moved to the neonatal stepped down unit from the intensive care one. There’s hope that they may be returning home this week. They’ll be here in a few minutes for the dedication. Do I need to make introductions, or does everyone know each other?”

“They trouble,” Geno whispered under his breath, “lots of trouble.”

“I think we’ve all met, in one life or another,” Sidney said, hoping to cover up what Geno’s murmur. It was best not to make any more enemies. Well, since it seemed like he and Wickenheiser were allies now, that must make the other goddesses allies too. He would have to bring in some more on his side too. Looked like he’d be talking to Flower, Tanger, and Kuni after all. “Hayley.” Sidney nodded to her and then to the other goddesses, “ladies.”

“Aw, isn’t that cute.” Hilary Knight cooed, “He thinks we’re ladies.” The hockey goddess of courage in the face of adversity should not coo. It was disturbing. She looked seconds away from pinching his cheeks (and he wasn’t even sure which pair).

Sidney subtle backed away from her.

“Hils, be nice.” Julie Chu, the hockey goddess of perseverance and overcoming limits chastised. She returned Sidney’s nod. Julie and Sidney had shared followers in the past, his work with player’s second chances overlapping with her work for those same players to overcome their limits (both internally and externally).

“Gentleman,” greeted Marie-Philip Poulin-Nadeau, the hockey goddess of victory.

“Hello,” Geno gave a small wave.

The final goddess was silent, seemingly lost in thought. Then again, Manon Rhéaume was a goalie goddess, and all goalies were a little crazy, so who knew what she was thinking. It was probably better that Sidney didn’t know.

Sidney turned back to Hayley. “We just came from visiting P.K. Subban. He confirmed that the car accident was caused by godly interference. He also said that this is not the first time that a god has interfered in order to keep women out of the NHL. He said it happened at least twenty other times.”

Hilary let out a catlike hiss at this information. “I knew it!” She growled, “I knew my Amanda was targeted.” Hilary started pacing.

Julie tried to calm her. “We don’t know that Amanda was a target. Not yet at least.”

“Amanda?” Geno asked.

“Kessel,” Hilary clarified.

“Goddess of hockey rebirth?” Sidney asked, surprised.

“Yes,” Hilary said, still pacing, “back when we were still human, she was attacked after a Riveter’s game by a crazed fan. She was shot. It was actually after that incident, when everyone was talking about it and praying for her that she ascended to her godhood. But the situation was so bizarre. The fan claimed to have no memory of attacking her and didn’t even own a gun. He said he had no idea where it came from. I always thought it was weird.”

Hilary’s dark eyes glared at Sidney, who considered shifting behind Geno a little more. Goddesses were scary.

“This fucking douche-bag did it. I know he did. Not a lot of people knew, but Amanda was in talks with the Rangers about signing as a free agent on a limited contract with them.”

“I wonder…” Manon said, speaking for the first time. Hilary stopped pacing to look at her.

“What is it?” Marie-Philip prompted.

“When I was still human, I was in talks with the Lightning. They were going to bring me in for a trial run as a backup goalie. However, somewhere higher up, it was later decided that they would just have me do an exhibition match. The original discussion was for a real shot at the NHL, but it changed, and the Lighting’s management did not even seem to know why things changed. I always thought it was odd.”

“And there are still other women out there that have either died or been crippled,” Sidney said. “At least twenty of them, and one girl was apparently only 15.”

All of the goddesses looked angry at this, but Hayley shook her head. “This may be bigger than we thought, and going on longer than we knew, but right now getting upset isn’t going to help us.”

“It helps get me in the mood to kick some ass.” Hilary muttered.

Hayley ignored her.

“We have to focus on keeping Beverly and her family safe,” Sidney agreed. “P.K. says that this god is going to try something again, to stop her from playing in the NHL.”

“We not let it happen,” Geno said. The other’s echoed their agreement.

“Oh,” said a voice behind Sidney, “Um, hello.”

Sidney turned around to find Beverly, with her wife Suzanne holding their son, standing in the doorway, staring wide-eyed at the group of seven gods.

Most of the time, in most places, gods could walk among their followers without really being seen. Human minds simply had a hard time actively observing divinity. But there were special places, like the baptismal chamber, that were designed specifically as seats of power to hold holy sacraments and divine rites. In these places, mortals were able to see their gods, to look them in the face and recognize them for what they were.

Sidney looked at Beverly with pride, no doubt the same sort of pride that Hayley looked at her with, when she visibly shook herself out of her startlement, pushed back her shoulders and lifted her chin. A bright smile spread across her face as she stepped forward.

“Thank you for coming,” She said as her wife gently handed her their son. “This is my son, Hayden Sidney Cruz.”

Geno beamed back at her, while Sidney looked down with a small smile.


	7. Sacred Rites

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing like a little divine sacrament between friends.

In Sidney’s time as a god, he had been present for only two other baptisms in his name. Both times had been for descendants of children he knew in his time as a mortal, prior to his ascent to godhood. Little Estelle Fleury’s daughter was the spitting image of her mother, while Alexander Letang the second looked nothing like his grandfather Alex Sr.

As Sidney stared down at little Hayden Cruz though, he felt like he had never held anything so small and fragile, even at those two other christenings. There had been other children that were dedicated in his name, other children that prayed to him as their patron god, other parents that decided the safest path for their child was with one of the healing gods, even a hockey one. This still felt quite different however.

For one thing, a goddess was conducting the rites, rather than a priest or priestess.

“Step forward,” Hayley directed to Beverly and Suzanne, as well as Sidney. The two women did not take their eyes off of their son as they approached the chamber’s alter. Sidney stepped forward between them, holding the child as gently as possible.

“You’ve come here today,” Hayley continued, “to dedicate your son, in the name of the hockey god Sidney, god of healing and second chances. Is that correct?”

“Yes,” both women answered.

“You name him godfather and patron, and will raise your son to know his god. Is that correct?”

“Yes,” the two women answered again.

Most of the time, when a child was dedicated in a god’s name, a small bond would form. The bond was just something to make their prayers to their patron god a little bit clearer. With time, prayer, and worship over that child’s life, that bond could grow stronger. Sidney knew that his attendance at the christening would already increase the power of the bond.

Sidney didn’t worry about that though. He already found himself feeling quite possessive and protective of his newest, smallest follower. It was odd to think that just a day ago he was arguing about whether or not he should heal the child. Now he found himself willing to wage war on anyone that would come to harm him, or his mothers.

“Sidney,” Hayley said, drawing his eyes up from where he had been studying Hayden’s tiny features. “Do you accept this child, dedicated in your name?”

“I do,” He said firmly.

Hayley smiled and reached forward for the clear bowl of water on the altar. It was at this point that the priestess would normally pray over the water before sprinkling a few drops on the infant’s head. Sidney wasn’t quite sure what prayer from a goddess would mean.

‘ _Bless this child,_ ’ Hayley’s prayer reverberated in his mind, just as loud and powerful as her spirit, ‘ _Keep him safe… Or I will find you and destroy you._ ’

Hayley never lost the serene smile on her face. By the Great One, hockey goddesses were terrifying.

When Hayley went to dip her fingers in the water though, Sidney decided to break the script. “Wait.” Beverly and Suzanne looked at him with concern, but Hayley’s smile widened. Sidney reached his own hand forward, dipped it in the water and then drew a small, gentle circle on Hayden’s forehead. The baby scrunched his face up adorably at the touch, and Sidney heard Geno coo at how cute it was in the background. The symbol may look like a circle, but it was actually another icon of his dominion, a hockey puck.

Sidney felt the bond take hold much more firmly that he was used to with most mortals. Instead of a barely noticeable link, it seemed to blossom with life, beating in time with Hayden’s small, fluttery heartbeat. Sidney heard Suzanne gasp next to him, obviously surprised that he would complete the divine rite himself.

He wasn’t done yet though.

Sidney handed the child to Beverly, being as smooth and gentle as possible so as not to disturb his sleep. He then reached forward into the bowl again to dampen his fingers. He then drew another puck on first Beverly’s forehead, and then Suzanne’s. He felt both women’s surprise as the bond blossomed open.

“I’ll hear you,” Sidney told them. “If you need help, if something happens, or even if you just need to open up about something, pray, and I’ll hear you.”

Both women just continued to stare at him. Oh Great One, what if they didn’t want to bond with him. He just kind of thrust it on them, without asking first. What if Hayley felt that he was poaching Beverly from her (why did everyone always think he was poaching?). He should have asked first!

Before he could say anything else, or apologize, or offer to break the bond, Suzanne burst into tears. Beverly looked like she was seconds away from crying herself.

Hayley was going to destroy him now, and the other goddesses would no doubt turn his skull into a hockey puck (he’d seen it happen before – Don’t mess with Kuni’s friends).

Sidney glanced at Hayley though, and was surprised to see her… smiling gently. And not even the frightening serene smile of hers.

In the next instant Suzanne had thrown her arms around Sidney and was hugging him, whispering, “Thank you! Thank you!” over and over.

“We’ve been so worried.”  Beverly told him, when he looked at her for help. “First the accident and Hayden’s birth, then Hayley told us that we were targeted by a god, and we heard you earlier, discussing that he would try again. We were so worried we couldn’t protect ourselves, let alone Hayden. But this,” She looked around the room, at the goddesses and Geno, as well as Sid, “This is so much more than we could ever hope for.  It’s such a relief.”

“Will be more relief soon,” Geno said.

“What?” Beverly asked.

“I call friends,” Geno told them.

Right when Geno finished speaking Flower, Tanger, and Kuni walked into the baptismal chamber.

Sidney felt some of that relief himself.


	8. Righteous Pilgrimage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten gods and goddesses take a divine field trip.

Sidney was happy to see his friends. It had been a while since all five gods were able to meet at the same time. They all stayed pretty busy with their sacred duties. Gods did not get vacations after all. But they were all here now. Sidney found himself standing a little straighter, feeling a little taller. Having his friends with him, his eternal team, always made Sidney feel empowered, as though his place as captain allowed him to draw extra strength from his team’s nearness and their common goals.

“Hey guys,” Sidney said, his right hand still awkwardly patting Suzanne’s back as she continued to sniffle happy tears. “It’s _so_ good to see you.”

“Well,” Flower began, “we can’t let you start a fight without backup. Everyone knows you’re shit at fighting.”

“I am not -”

“Yeah,” Tanger interrupted, “you really are.” And Tanger would know fighting. As the god of hockey defense – the shield in times of attack, god of shelter in times of need – Tanger was very familiar with conflict.

Then Kuni stepped forward. Kind, mild mannered Kuni, who looked more likely to hug someone than fight them. That just showed how looks could be deceiving. The hockey god of underdogs was the most vicious, overwhelming fighter of any of the hockey gods.

When Sidney was briefly held captive by the gods of Golf, who wanted to recruit him for their war against the gods of Soccer, it was Kuni that led the charge to free Sidney. It was Kuni who ferociously cut through the gods of golf like they were made of paper. It was Kuni – covered in blood that was definitely not his own – who had opened Sidney’s cell door, breaking the godly seals that were keeping him trapped. It was Kuni, who pulled Sidney to his feet and said, “It’s okay now. I’ve got you.”

Geno made Sidney feel safe and loved. Kuni made Sidney feel avenged.

You do not corner a desperate animal, because they will fight with every inch of strength in their body. That is the strength of the god of underdogs; that fierce, violent power. Kuni did not go into Beast Mode often, but if his friends, his team, were threatened in anyway, that changed very quickly.

“Good to see you man.” Kuni gave a friendly, gentle smile to the room. “G told us a bit about what’s been going on.”

“This is the back up?” Hilary spoke up, looking over the three new gods. “Let’s see… god of defense, god of underdogs, and… Oh.” Hilary blanched a little when she saw Flower.

Flower wiggled his fingers in a friendly, if creepy, hello.

“Trickster goalie god.” Manon spoke up. She wiggled her fingers back at Flower. It was just as creepy when she did it.

All goalie gods had a bit of trickster in them. But Flower. Flower was The Trickster of the goalie gods. Any pranks that his followers played were a direct form of worship to him, empowering him through the sacrifices of time, planning, and laughter.

Don’t mess with goalies, but especially don’t mess with Flower.

Sidney smiled.

 

After introductions were made and Flower, Tanger, and Kuni were brought up to speed, it was time to plan their next step. Sidney had a direct link to the Cruz family, so he would know if they were hurt or in danger, but he worried that if Beverly was attacked by this god, that he could kill her before Sidney even got there. He didn’t worry about her being hurt, because he would be able to heal her. But he did worry about her being killed, and passing beyond his realm of power.

“I have my first game in two days.” Beverly said worriedly. “I can’t just hide out somewhere. I’m not going to let this asshole win. I’m not going to let him take the NHL away from me.” Beverly flipped her dark braids over her shoulder. She looked powerful in that moment, standing tall and proud, determination written all over her face.

“We won’t let him win,” Marie-Philip soothed. “You will play in two days. That just means that we have to find him before then.”

“I know where to start,” Kuni said.

“Where’s that?” Julie asked.

“I’m the god of underdogs, and you know dogs. Once they get a scent, they’ll track it to hell and back. Take me to the crash site. I’ll get a sense for the power residue that was left there, and see if we can pick up a trail.”

Sidney nodded. It was a good idea. He worried though, about leaving the Cruz family unprotected.

As though reading his mind, Tanger spoke up. “I’ll stay here and watch over them.” Tanger nodded his chin at where Beverly and Suzanne were standing next to Sidney, Hayden back in Suzanne’s arms.

“I’ll stay too.” Manon stated simply. You couldn’t get better security that the hockey god of defense and the goalie god of protection.

Sidney shared a look at Hayley and received a nod of agreement. He then looked at the Cruz’s. He found himself very leery of letting the three of them out of his sight. Geno put a gentle hand on his shoulder, squeezing it in silent support. Geno always knew what he was thinking, his eternal partner in all things.

“We go.” Geno said simply.

Beverly and Suzanne nodded their agreement.

“Will we still be able to see you,” Suzanne asked worriedly, “after we leave the chamber?”

“Yes,” Sidney answered. “I’ve given you my blessing and protection. The bond we have will make it possible for you to see the divine, even outside our places of power...” Sidney trailed off when it looked like Suzanne might cry again. Oh Great One, not more feelings!

“We go.” Geno repeated again, saving Sidney from himself.

 

While Beverly and Suzanne took Hayden back to his room for his next feeding, and Manon and Tanger stood guard over them, the other eight gods and goddesses explored the scene of the crash. Flower used his power to fell a couple of trees into the road on both sides of the crash site, so they would not be disturbed.

Sidney walked into the middle of the street, where the accident took place, Kuni right beside him. Sidney tried to sense the power that was responsible for the crash, but he was having a difficult time separating it from the violent echoes of the injuries that took place in that area, not just the accident that Suzanne was in, but also previous accidents and injuries that had taken place.

That was a downside of Sidney’s power. Being a healing god, he could sense the phantom of past injuries, but traces of power that had been used by a fellow god almost three days ago was a bit too much for him.

“Oh, I see,” Kuni muttered. He got down on the ground, almost laying in the road. “Well, that does make things harder.”

“What did you find?” Hayley asked. As the goddess of trailblazers, her powers also allowed her to track power more easily that the other gods, and follow the trail that it left behind.

“We aren’t looking for one god.” Kuni told them simply. “We are looking for two gods.”

Well, that did make things harder. Sidney firmed his resolve though. It didn’t matter if it was one, two, or a whole arm of gods. Sidney was not going to allow them to hurt his followers, or the game that he loved.

“But you have a sense for it right?” Sidney asked Kuni. “You can follow it?”

Kuni’s smile was a violent, bloodthirsty thing. “Oh yeah. I can follow it.”

Hilary’s smile was a dead ringer for Kuni’s. “Well, let’s not waste any more time. Let’s get these fuckers.”

“Let’s.” Sidney agreed simply.


	9. Faithless Devotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten against two should be good odds among gods. Cursed gods are a whole different matter though.

The eight gods and goddesses prepared to follow Kuni and Hayley on the trail that the power left behind, when Kuni addressed everyone seriously. “There is one more thing that I want you all to know. This residue that was left behind… I’m pretty sure that we are looking for two cursed gods here.”

Sidney grimaced. It made sense that such distasteful things were done by cursed gods, but it didn’t make the task ahead of them any more enjoyable.

Gods would typically ascend to power through worship. In the case of the gods of Sports, that often meant through devotion and worship by the fans of their sport. Cursed gods, on the other hand, ascended to godhood through the hate and ridicule of the fans. This often led to those cursed gods being more than a bit twisted and unstable. While typically gods would continue to grow in power through the worship, sacrifice, and prayers of outside sources, most commonly their followers, cursed gods gained power through their own actions, and their own specific practice of their dominion.

Matt Cooke, the cursed god of hockey dirty plays for example, would gain power whenever he was able to influence a player to make a dirty move, but would not receive power from just any player anywhere making a dirty move unless he influenced it somehow, or it was dedicated to him. Sidney shook his head, imagining an all powerful Cookie who gained strength from any dirty plays made on the ice.

There was a way that a god could become cursed though. If a god was weakened enough, and their followers lost faith in them, and started hating them instead, than the god could become cursed. Becoming cursed for that god was very unpleasant, as it would warp their dominion into something wholly different from what it once was.

“All right,” Hilary grinned, “Let’s get this show on the road.”

“We just leave trees in road?” Geno asked, eyeing the downed trees with disapproval. He turned and looked at Flower.

“Don’t ask me,” Flower said, holding his hands out in front of him as though to ward off Geno’s disapproving stare. “I’m a Trickster. Falling trees is a nice trick, but standing them back up is outside my jurisdiction.”

“That’s alright. I’ve got it.” Julie said, walking up to one of the downed trees and easily lifting it out of the road before moving on to the next.

“Goddess of perseverance and overcoming limits,” Hayley said. “Nice.”

“That,” Hilary said, pointing at Julie who was casually lifting the next tree, “is really hot.”

“Carful there. Don’t make me tell Amanda,” Marie-Philip chastised.

“Go ahead,” Hilary told her, “She’d think it’s hot too. I wonder how Julie feels about threesomes.”

“Done,” Julie said, wiping her hands off on her jeans.

“Alright,” Sidney said, refocusing the group, “Kuni, you and Hayley are the two that can follow the trail most easily. Just tell us where to go.”

Kuni nodded, “There are two trails, but one is too faint to follow on its own.”

“Alright, what about the other one?” Sidney asked.

“That one’s clearer,” Kuni agreed. “It seems to lead into Boston.”

Sidney had a bad feeling about that. “The Garden?” he asked.

 “The Garden,” Kuni agreed.

 

The TD Garden hadn’t changed much between the time that Sidney was a mortal, playing there against the Bruins and his time as a god, helping his followers among the Bruins and the Boston Braves. The main difference was in how the Garden appeared to Sidney’s senses. It was one of the arenas that echoed with the greatest amount of on ice injuries. In a sport like hockey, which was rife with hard plays and hard hits, the Bruins were still some of the toughest bastards around. That hadn’t changed.

The group of gods followed the trailed inside the Garden, and were surprised to find the Bruins inside practicing.

“Why practice in the Garden?” Geno asked, “Why not Warrior Ice Arena?”

“They’re having some trouble with the ice over there,” A familiar French Canadian voice answered them. “Apparently, it’s not staying cold enough.”

Sidney turned around with the rest of the group to see Patrice Bergeron watching them curiously.

“Well,” Patrice said, taking in the group. The only sign that he was startled was a slight lifting of his eyebrows, “this is a surprise.”

“Is it him?” Hilary asked, fists clenched in preparation to beat the shit out of him if someone gave the word go.

“Of course not,” Sidney said quickly, before she could leap forward. “He’s not a cursed god!”

Patrice’s eyebrows climbed a little higher. “I’m not,” He agreed simply.

“He’s the hockey god of two-way players.” Flower chimed in for the rest of the group.

“But what is he doing here?” Marie-Philip asked.

“I could ask the same,” Patrice said, voice mildly chastising, “and I get the idea that your reason is much more interesting than mine.”

A few of the goddesses frowned. They obviously did not like the idea of sharing what they were doing there, and Sidney couldn’t help but agree. He didn’t want anyone else to know about their hunt, in case it tipped off the cursed gods they were looking for.

“We looking for cursed gods who hurt female hockey players.” Geno told him.

Why did Geno have to be so trusting of others?

“You seen cursed god here?” Geno continued.

“Actually, yes,” Patrice answered.

Okay, so maybe Geno’s instincts were on point. That was nothing new.

“I’ve been noticing a lot of increased fighting amongst the Bruins,” Patrice continued, “including two of my own followers who usually avoid fights as much as possible. I came to check it out.”

“You think a cursed god is influencing them to fight more?” Sidney asked.

“Yes,” Patrice answered.

“Who is the cursed god then?” Hayley asked.

“The cursed god of hockey conflict of course.”

Sidney felt his eyes widen. Somehow, he never would have guessed, yet he wasn’t terribly surprised.

“Don Cherry?”


	10. Ungodly Powers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How does one fight a cursed god of conflict?

Sidney’s eyes met Geno’s. He saw a mirror image of his own grim thoughts reflected in Geno’s eyes. This was going to be difficult.

Don Cherry was one of the first of the cursed Hockey gods. While the Great One ascended and established the hierarchy for all Hockey gods, so too did Don Cherry descend among the cursed gods. It’s said that Cherry is at least partially responsible for every brawl that takes place in the modern hockey era, and that he receives power from each one. As the game changed, becoming less about enforcement and grit and more about technique and strategy, so too changed the cursed god of conflict. He influenced and created conflict among fan bases, between teams, inside locker rooms, and among the press. And whenever the conflict erupted, he gained power.

“This is going to be tricky…” Flower stated.

Julie turned to Patrice, “Is Cherry still here?”

Patrice frowned. “Yes. He’s been watching the practice. I think he’s been feeding his power into the players and that’s why there has been an increase in fighting for the Bruins. I’m not sure what to do about that, honestly. I was thinking of taking the issue to the Counsel, but I wasn’t sure if it was serious enough for them to intercede.”

Hilary snorted, “Like they’d even get off their asses and do anything. You’d have to deal with years of red tape and committee meetings before they would even be willing to take a statement.”

Sidney grimaced. The Holy Counsel of Hockey was the commission that presided over all Hockey gods to an extent, and could rain down heavenly judgment on those gods that were deemed a danger to the wider world, and a danger to Hockey. In theory, they should have been the perfect place to go with the danger that Beverly and her family were in, but in practice they would take far too much time to actually intervene. Beverly would be in more danger of dying from old age before a decision was made.

It didn’t help that the Counsel was commissioned by Gary Bettman, cursed god of hockey bureaucracy.

“No,” Hayley said, voicing Sidney’s thoughts, “If we go to the Counsel, there is no way that they would intervene in time to help Beverly.”

Patrice looked at Geno for an explanation, because he clearly knew who would share the information. Sidney tuned out Geno’s quiet explanation to Patrice and instead focused across the ice where the Bruins were gathering in a circle. Something didn’t seem right about the way they were shoving each other in order to get closer to the bench. Those weren’t playful shoves.

“Guys,” Sidney said, “I think were out of time. Cherry’s doing something to the players.”

Julie gasped, “He’s influencing them to fight.”

Marie-Philip grimaced, “They’re not the only ones.” She suddenly turned and punched Flower in the face.

“Marie, what the hell?” Hilary shouted.

Marie-Philip didn’t respond, instead she moved on to Julie and kneed her in the gut. It didn’t seem to phase Julie though, since she just grabbed Marie-Philip’s wrists in one hand and lifted her off her feet. Julie did stumble however when Hayley jumped on her back and tried to strangle her. Julie easily flipped Hayley over her shoulder, off of her back, and onto the floor.

Sidney looked away from Julie to see Flower and Geno grappling with each other on the floor. Geno seemed to have the advantage of weight and reach, but Flower was clearly fighting dirty.

On the ice, the Bruins started tearing into each other with fists and sticks. Patrice was running down to the ice, though whether it was to try to help the players or to join the fight, Sidney wasn’t sure. Sidney didn’t really have time to worry about that though.

“Sid…” Kuni grunted as he seemed to strain just to get the words out. “Run…”

Well. Fuck.

Kuni came charging at him with a growl. Sidney dodged him. There was no way that he could take Kuni in a fight. Kuni would tear him apart. Sidney tried to assess the situation. Flower and Geno were still rolling on the ground, grappling. Julie had Hilary, Hayley, and Marie-Philip all hanging off of her, trying to bring her down, while she resisted but also tried not to hurt them.

Sidney wasn’t sure why he and Julie appeared to be the only two not affected by Cherry’s power for inducing conflict.

Wait.

Julie was the goddess that Sidney shared the most followers with, because they both represented the power to overcome a player’s limits. Did that mean they were also able to overcome Cherry’s power because of their own?

“Sidney!” Julie shouted in warning and then Sidney felt Kuni grab him around the waist and physically throw him down the stairs of the stadium. Stupid! How could he have taken his eyes off Kuni even for a moment?

Sidney tried to protect his head as he tumbled down the stairs, only stopping when he reached the wall of the rink. His shoulder burned with pain and felt off, and so did his right wrist. It just figured that the one person he couldn’t heal was himself.

“Crosby,” Patrice shouted to him from the rink. It seemed that he wasn’t affected by Cherry either. Patrice was busy separating the players and seemed to be placing some sort of barrier between them to stop them from killing each other. Well, he was the god of two way players, which meant that he had to have powers that extended to defense. Apparently that defense took the form of barriers. Sidney would have to get a rundown from him later.

“Crosby,” Patrice said again. “I’ll stop the others. You’re not affected so you have to go after Cherry. We need to cut off his influence.”

Sidney wanted to ask what Patrice thought that Sidney could do against the cursed god of hockey conflict, but there really didn’t have time to discuss it, and Kuni was stalking down the stairs.

Looked like he was on his own.

“Send Julie after me, once the others are contained!” Sidney shouted as he stumbled through the stands toward the other side of the rink.

Good thing Sidney was a playmaker. It meant he was able to think fast on his feet.

And he’d need to think fast because he could see Don Cherry straight ahead, scowling at Patrice who was making his way off the ice to help his fellow gods.

“Don Cherry!” Sidney shouted to draw Cherry’s attention.

It worked, because Cherry turned away from Patrice and fixed his eyes on Sidney instead.


	11. Immaculate Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not all healing is divine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter in the bottom notes. Please read them if you may have potential triggers.

Sidney was waiting for a flash of inspiration as Don Cherry scowled at him. Cherry appeared exactly as Sidney remembered him being as a mortal, like some unholy cross between a crotchety old grandfather, an escaped circus clown, and a war veteran who might just be hiding a bowie knife somewhere on his person.

“Crosby,” Cherry growled, “You should know better than to interrupt a team practice.” Cherry turned back to the Bruins, his face twisting up in irritation as he watched them struggle against the invisible barriers that Patrice had stuck them in. They looked a little ridiculous. Like thirty grown men dressed in hockey gear, practicing their miming skills.

Cherry looked like he was going to step onto the ice and approach a player near the bench. Sidney didn’t know if Cherry had a way to breach Patrice’s barrier, but didn’t want to see what would happen to the player if he did.

“Coward.” Sidney called out to him.

Cherry stopped, turning back to Sidney again. “What did you just say, boy?”

“You’re a coward.” Sidney said slowly, but clearly. As he said the words, he realized just how angry he was, and how true the words were. “You attack a bunch of innocent mortals. You attacked a pregnant woman. You almost killed her child! You’re nothing but a cowardly, weak, sexist asshole!”

Sidney watched Cherry’s face turn as red as a… well. He certainly had his undivided attention now.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Cherry spat as he approached Sidney. “Who are you? A healing god. One of the weakest, most useless gods. A glorified nursemaid. All you do is pretty up the trash that should have been made to retire.”

“You’re full of shit,” Sidney shouted back, hands clenched into fists. Cherry was only a few steps away now. “You talk about trash, but you’re destroying players’ lives. Beverly Cruz and all of the other women you’re trying to keep out of the NHL. You’re nothing but a cancer. They’re human beings.”

“They’re mortals!” Cherry growled, closing the distance between them and fisting a hand in the front of Sidney’s shirt. “Women have no business in the men’s locker room, and no business in the NHL.”

Sidney punched him in the face with his left hand. Clearly, Cherry did not think that Sidney would actually try to fight him. Cherry reared back, grabbing at his face, hand cupping his nose, which Sidney was very pleased to see was bleeding profusely. Cherry was used to influencing others to fight. That did not mean that he could actually fight himself. If his influence was useless against Sidney, then maybe he could take him in a one on one fight…

Cherry punched Sidney in the throat and then in the gut. Sidney dropped to his knees, trying to gasp in air that he couldn’t seem to find.

“Pathetic.” Cherry scoffed. “Did you actually think you could fight me? I’m the god of conflict!”

“Cursed… god…” Sidney gasped out. “You’re not… a god. You’re a… cursed god.”

Cherry gave a shout of anger and kicked Sidney in his right arm, which was already damaged from being pushed down the stairs by Kuni earlier. Was he actually getting his ass handed to him by someone that looked like they belonged in a nursing home?

“I may be a cursed god.” Cherry said, “But at least I’m not a weak healing god.”

Healing was not weak. Sidney knew that it was one of the most useful and sought after powers among both gods and man. Every human being was created with the inborn ability to heal themselves, yet Sidney was still prayed to and worshipped by millions of people. He was even prayed to by people outside of Hockey, though he tried to focus his following on the sport that he loved and ascended to godhood through. Sidney knew that healing was not weak. It seemed he would have to show Cherry that too.

When Cherry tried to kick him again, Sidney reached forward with his left hand and grabbed his ankle. Cherry reared back from him suddenly, shaking his leg as though it had fallen asleep. Sidney knew that he would be experiencing what felt like a severe case of pins and needles. It wasn’t anything so benign.

Sidney reach forward and touched Cherry’s other leg, watching through lidded eyes as Cherry’s legs suddenly collapsed under him. “What did you do?” Cherry asked angrily.

“Just some of that weak healing,” Sidney said coldly, touching Cherry’s right arm. As he did, Cherry looked down at his legs, which were starting to swell and bulge oddly, tearing at the pant legs of his ugly yellow suit.

“Stop it!” Cherry said, watching in horror as his hand and arm began with swell and bubble, like the skin was made of liquid.

“I’m just prettying up the trash, like you said.” Sidney continued, watching as the cells in Cherry’s body multiplied faster and faster, creating cancerous tumors throughout the limbs that Sidney had sent his power into. Sidney watched, slightly detached and dispassionate, as he reached forward and tapped Cherry’s other hand.

“No more!” Cherry said feverishly. “Make it stop!”

“I don’t know,” Sidney said with all the mercilessness of the disease that he was inflicting upon Cherry. “I’m not done yet. And I do believe that you’re still influencing my friends and those players.”

“I’ll stop!” Cherry sobbed, flat on his back and unable to move from how distorted his body had become. The tumors buldged and wrapped his body, dissenting his stomach as though he were pregnant. His limbs looked more like lumps of meat than actual arms and legs. Cherry closed his eyes in concentration. He gave a full body shudder. “There! They’re free!”

Sidney looked up and watched as the Bruins stopped their mime act. Across the rink, Sidney’s sharp eyesight was able to pick up the movement of the other gods and goddesses running toward him. He turned back to Cherry. “Well done.” Sidney continued coldly, “But I’m not done healing you yet.” He knelt by Cherry’s head and reached his hand forward to tap Cherry’s forehead.

“No!” Cherry screamed.

Luckily for Cherry, Sidney was interrupted.

“Sidney Crosby, hold it right there!”

Sidney turned, one hand still poised over Cherry’s forehead.

Standing behind him was Gary Bettman and at least five more gods of bureaucracy.

Well, looked like the Council decided to get involved after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: violence and body horror from the rapid progression of cancerous tumors.


	12. Holy Sufferance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aren’t things supposed to get easier when the cavalry arrives?

For a few long moments Sidney’s hand stayed hovered over Cherry’s forehead. He could do it. He could force his power into Cherry’s brain before the Council was even able to cross the seats to him. I would be what Cherry deserved. It would be justice. It would be _righteous_.

“Sid,” Geno called, dropping to his knees beside him.

Sidney let out a sharp exhale.

It would also be way more complications that he had the energy to deal with right now.

Sidney pulled his hand away, leaning into Geno, and letting him take his weight. Geno wrapped an arm around Sidney’s waist to help pull him to his feet.

Cherry let out a miserable moan from the floor as Geno led Sidney away from him and toward the group of gods and goddesses that he had come with. Sidney noticed that most of them were sporting bruises and abrasions, and that Geno was limping even as he helped support Sidney.

Sidney was suddenly glad that he didn’t waste his power on Cherry. Concentrating on where Geno was touching him, Sidney sent a flow of healing power into his partner. Geno’s limp immediately eased, as bruises and abrasions smoothing over instantly. Geno shot him a grateful look.

When they reach the others, Sidney went down the line of gods and goddesses, gently touching each one on their hands or shoulder, healing them. Sidney was just looking at the Bruins on the ice, sorting through the prayers in his mind to see if any of them were praying for him so he could intercede, when he was interrupted.

“We’re going to need an explanation for what is going on here.” Gary Bettman stated, calm but also clearly confused.

“Shouldn’t you already know?” Hilary asked. “You’re here to arrest him, right?” She nodded her head at Cherry.

“The Council doesn’t arrest people.” Bettman stated firmly.

“No,” Julie spoke up, “But you can detain them in a secure location, to await judgment.”

“Isn’t that the same thing as arresting them?” Flower wondered.

“We don’t even know what it is he supposedly needs judgment for,” Bettman was starting to sound impatient. “For all we know he’s the one that needs detaining.” Bettman point at Sidney.

Geno growled like an angry bear, arm clamping almost painfully tight around Sidney’s waist.

Sidney had been feeling the same numbness and detachment that he was experiencing ever since he started using his healing against Cherry. He knew that it was a sign of him overextending himself and using too much power outside of his dominion. Bettman’s words broke his detachment however. He suddenly found himself absolutely furious again.

“You want to know what he’s done to deserve this?” Sidney leaned against Geno, calming his anger even as Sidney’s continued to boil. “How about the murder or crippling of 20 mortal girls? How about the attempted murder of my follower and her wife and son? How about attacking nine other gods and influencing a team of mortal players to tear each other apart?”

Bettman blinked at him slowly, looking at the miserable and grotesque lump that was Cherry on the ground, and then the nine furious gods staring at him. He cleared his throat. “That does indeed seem to be a problem.” he agreed.

“A problem?” Hilary snarled quietly. “Not finding the right size in a cute pair of shoes is a problem. This is fucking treason against Hockey.”

“We can’t jump to any conclusions without properly looking into the allegations.” Bettman continued.

“That’s reasonable,” Patrice spoke up.

Sidney whipped his head around to stare at Patrice is disbelief.

Patrice just raised his eyebrows at Sidney’s stare. “You’ll definitely want to investigate,” he continued. “I’m a little late to this party, but from what I understand Don Cherry wasn’t working alone. There is another cursed god out there that may still pose a danger.”

“If you didn’t know what is going on,” Hayley asked, staring hard at Bettman, “how did you know to come here?”

“I prayed for them to come,” Patrice spoke up once more. Seeing the other gods watching him, he let out a huff, “Can you please stop staring at me like I’m about to attack you? I prayed to the Great One for intervention and assistance. I guess he sent… help.” Even Patrice seemed to lose confidence when describing Bettman and the other gods of bureaucracy as help.

Pierre McGuire, Alan Eagleson, John Ferguson, Jr., Brian Burke, and Bob Goodenow – a mixed bag of minor cursed and non-cursed gods of bureaucracy and management. Not exactly the first people that would spring to mind as far as the cavalry went. Pierre saw Sidney looking at him and gave him a cheerful wave hello. Sidney didn’t even try to conceal his grimace. Sidney had no idea what the Great One was thinking.

Sidney also wasn’t sure how he felt about them leaving with Cherry. If they let the Council walk away with their one solid lead it would leave them back at square one as far as finding the second cursed god was concerns.

“Mr. Crosby,” Bettman drew Sidney’s attention, “for us to detain Mr. Cherry, we will need you to… um… heal the damage he’s sustained.”

Sidney started at the Council member incredulously. “No.”

Bettman looked surprised. “What?”

“I said,” Sidney spoke slowly and clearly, “ _No_.”

“But, we can’t,” Bettman spluttered, “We can’t transport him like this. He can’t even stand.”

“Get big spatula,” Geno said, not at all quietly.

“But…” Bettman tried again.

Sidney leaned into Geno more firmly. “I have barely enough energy to see to the rest of my duties right now.” He nodded his head at the dazed and hurt Bruins players. “I don’t have any power to spare on him.” He motioned for Geno to help him over to the ice. “You want him,” He addressed the gods of bureaucracy behind him. “You get him as is.”

Sidney decided to tune out whatever else Bettman said. He really was getting low on energy. Using his powers on gods was much harder than healing a mortal though. Luckily, most of the Bruins had the presence of mind to pray for his help. They knew, just the same way that a prey animal recognizes a predator, that something beyond their understanding had happened, causing them to fight each other. So, they knew that they needed assistance from something higher as well.

Sidney wasn’t quite looking like a mighty hockey god of healing at the moment though. His throat felt swollen and bruised, and he had difficulty swallowing. His right arm was completely limp and pulsated with pain. His stomach was sore and bruised, and his ribs hurt when he drew too deep of a breath.

He had a job to do though, and he wouldn’t fail his followers.

Geno knew him well enough not to even suggest it. He just helped him to player after player, so that he could heal them. Each player saying a small prayer of thanks when he was done, making promises to sacrifice time and energy in practice or a game to him. Quite a few promised to score goals in his honor.

When he had seen to all of the players, Geno led him back to the other gods. Patrice was standing apart from them. He gave Sidney a nod of thanks and then went down to check on the team, no doubt to see how his own followers were doing. Sidney wasn’t sure how to feel about Patrice at that moment. He had stopped the players and gods from hurting each other more than they did, but he had also gotten their only lead taken into Council custody.

Then again, if the Council didn’t come, Sidney’s not sure how much of Cherry would have been left to lead them anyway.

Hilary looked Sidney over critically when Geno helped him back. “You look like shit.” She said bluntly.

“Do I?” Sidney asked sarcastically. “And yet I feel so vibrant and healthy.”

Hilary rolled her eyes. “Come on. You can come back to my place. Amanda should be able to fix you up.”

Sidney grimaced, but agreed. The hockey goddess of rebirth and reinvention wasn’t able to heal mortals in the same way that Sidney could, but she had a certain power of revitalization that was able to assist other gods. Sidney knew that he needed to be in top shape if he had any hope of keeping the Cruz family safe and finding the other cursed god.

“Lead the way,” He told her.


	13. Hallowed Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to regroup and refocus.

The group of eight decided that Hilary, Sidney, and Geno would go to Amanda, so Sidney could recover, while the rest would meet back up with Tanger and Manon to watch over the Cruz family.

“She’ll be at the _office_ right now,” Hilary told them. “I’m sure she’ll be able to fit you in though.”

The _office_ happened to be the Barnabas Health Hockey Center at the Prudential Center. Sidney hadn’t ever been healed by Amanda before, but he knew that she ran something of a health clinic for fellow gods. Sidney wasn’t sure how she was able to heal so many other gods without getting drawn into godly politics, but did know that her clinic was hallowed neutral territory.

Amanda Kessel was the goddess of hockey rebirth and reinvention. She had the power to pass energy on to mortals and gods. In mortals, the energy was able to inspire new strategies and moves, provide increased focus, and help players to discover more about themselves. In gods, that energy was able to kick start their own accelerated healing and help them recover from injuries faster. It wasn’t instant healing like what Sidney’s power could provide, but it also had a degree of enlightenment that Sidney’s lacked.

Sidney hoped that maybe Amanda’s power would help him think of a way to track the second god that was hurting female players.

Hilary led them to an office that looked like a stereotypical trainer’s medical room, complete with examination table.

An examination table that was currently occupied.

“Whoops, sorry to interrupt.” Hilary said, not sounding particularly sorry though, as she eyed the player seated shirtless on the table.

Amanda huffed, “You’d sound more sincere if you actually left after apologizing.”

“Nah,” said the god on the table, “I don’t mind.”

“Tyler…” a second god in the room chastised.

Sidney, whose mother taught him to respect other people’s privacy, had ducked back out into the hall once he realized the room was already occupied. Now though, he recognized the voices and had to peek back in to see who it was.

Inside the room, Tyler Seguin, hockey god of impulse and passion was seated on the exam table with a pretty colorful bruise over his ribs, while Jamie Benn, hockey god of responsibility frowned at him.

Tyler caught sight of Sidney peeking around the corner. “Hey, Sid! Long time no see!”

Taking that as permission, Geno decided to herd Sidney into the room.

“Holy shit Cros,” Tyler said, “You look awful.” He winced at his blunt words after he said them.

“Yeah,” Sidney agreed, “Not feeling that great either.” He nodded his head to the bruise on Tyler’s ribs. “What happened there?”

“Long story,” Jamie told him.

“No,” Tyler disagreed, “short story, really. I may have insulted a basketball god’s sister. In my defense, she really did look like a dude from behind.”

Geno chuckled.

“Please don’t encourage him,” Jamie sighed.

They were an interesting pair, Sidney thought, not for the first time. The hockey gods of impulse and responsibility, the gods of passion and authority. They just demonstrated how opposites could attract.

“So what happened to you?” Tyler asked, hopping down from the table and pulling on his shirt when Amanda motioned for him to.

“I’d like to know that as well,” Amanda said, after leaning over to give Hilary a kiss hello.

Sidney wasn’t sure he wanted to tell even more gods what was going on. Amanda was one thing, but Tyler and Jamie were another.

“Sid beat up by cursed god of hockey conflict after we find out he killing women who try to join NHL.”

Damn it Geno!

Sidney sighed as Amanda, Tyler, and Jamie all looked at them in surprise.

“Cursed god of hockey conflict,” Jamie said, “You mean Don Cherry?”

“Yes,” Geno said.

“You got beat up by Don Cherry?” Tyler asked, looking like he was unsure if he should laugh at Sidney or wrap him in a soft blanket.

“I won the fight,” Sidney felt compelled to point out, slightly petulant.

“Hell yeah he did!” Hilary agreed. “Cherry looked like an even uglier version of Jabba the Hut when Crosby was through with him.”

At least Tyler and Jamie looked slightly impressed at this pronouncement. Amanda didn’t seem to be following the conversation. “Killing women who try to join the NHL.” She repeated. She met Hilary’s stricken eyes.

“Shit, babe…” Hilary said, drawing Amanda to the side of the room.

Sidney then remembered that in all likelihood, Amanda was one of the female players that Cherry and his partner killed. If she hadn’t ascended to godhood when she was shot, she would have died instead. That shooting still ended her mortal life as it had been until that point.

There was a slightly awkward silence as the gods in the room attempted to give the two goddesses privacy. Tyler and Jamie seemed to have more questions about what had happened, so Sidney just let Geno explain what they had found out. Sidney watched their faces draw tighter and tighter. Neither of them were cursed gods, so Sidney wasn’t too worried about them knowing what was happening.

“Alright,” Amanda said, coming back over. Her eyes were bright and a little red, but there were no tears in sight. Instead she just looked steely focused. She motioned to the exam table, “On the table Crosby. Shirt off.”

Sidney looked at Tyler and Jamie, to see if they were leaving, but instead they seemed to be settling in to some waiting chairs in the exam room. Must be Geno had decided to recruit two more gods. At this rate, they would have half of all the hockey gods working with them.

Geno had to help Sidney out of his shirt because of his damaged right arm and shoulder. He looked like one large bruise from his neck to his navel. Amanda looked him over briefly before laying her hand on his throat. Her power felt cold, like ice as she ran her hand over his shoulder and arm, then held it over his ribs and stomach. It felt almost painful, but also soothing in the way that an ice bath does against sore and swollen muscles.

Sidney felt some of the pain leech away from him, and felt his focus sharpen as he considered what their next step needed to be. Sidney found himself looking at Tyler and Jamie, Hilary and Amanda, and finally Geno. He thought of the gods that were back at the hospital with the Cruz family. There were so many gods that wanted to help, that wanted to see the NHL move forward, and protect the amazing woman that were fighting for their rightful place to play in the NHL. With such a team of gods working together, they should be able to find the second cursed god.

Sidney started, feeling Amanda’s power focus his mind.

A team of gods.

All this time, Sidney and the other gods had been working together, but still using their powers separately. They were used to working alone, helping their followers alone. But what if they worked as a team, and combined multiple powers for a greater effect.

Teamwork.

“Geno,” Sidney said, “We need to see P.K. again. But this time, Amanda, we need you to come with us. And Julie. And Kuni.”

With Amanda’s power to give P.K. that spark of focus, Julie and Sidney’s abilities to overcome boundaries, and Kuni’s ability to track down a trail, P.K. might actually be able to narrow in on the cursed god.

Sidney explained the idea to the room.

Amanda’s grin was a vicious slice of a smile. “Sounds good to me. I think there is someone I owe a very _stern_ talking to.”


	14. Godly Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gods get by with a little help from their friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please see bottom notes for chapter warnings.

Sidney looked around himself at his fellow gods. They were quickly running out of time. They had met back up with the rest of their team at the hospital, just in time for little Hayden Cruz to be discharged home. With him discharging, his mother Beverly fully planned to participate in her first King’s game that night, playing the Capitals at the Staples Center. There was a lot of talk building about Beverly’s first game. Already people were discussing the women that planned to follow in her footsteps next season.

Beverly had to play. She was determined to take the ice, not just for herself, but also for the other female players that were counting on her to pave the way. Hayley would be staying with Beverly, along with Jamie, Tanger, Manon, and Hilary.

 Hilary was busy empowering Beverly with courage, while Jamie calmed her nerves about being the first female NHL player and the responsibility that she felt for all the other women looking up to her. Hayley also was watching over Beverly and subtly influenced the media’s narrative of Beverly as a trailblazer, and viciously crushing as many sexist reports as possible. Tanger and Manon would be staying with Suzanne and Hayden, to watch over them at Beverly’s request.

Sidney didn’t like having to leave his new followers, but he knew he had to trust his team of gods to do their jobs. They knew their own powers. They were committed to seeing Beverly succeed and the NHL move forward into a brighter era. All he could do was move forward with them.

They were meeting P.K. in Nashville, at his place of power, which just happened to be a country western club next to Bridgestone Arena. Only P.K…

The club was empty when they arrived, with chairs turned upside-down on top of their tables. P.K. was standing in the middle of the dance floor, wearing a cowboy hat, and swaying to music that only he could hear. Sidney sighed. He wasn’t going to even try to make sense of P.K.

“P.K.” Sidney called out.

P.K. turned around with a broad grin, “Hey, you made it!” P.K. looked at the rest of the group. He tipped his hat at them, “Guys, ladies, welcome. So, what can I help you with?”

Sidney was quick to explain, “We’ve found out quite a bit since you and I talked. We know that there is actually a pair of cursed gods that have been attacking female players, and one of them was Don Cherry. We’re trying to find the other one now. We think that if we are able to combine parts of our powers with yours, that we would be able to do that.”

Sidney looked at his fellow gods, listing out the parts of their powers that would help push P.K.’s ability beyond its dominion. “Amanda, to focus and inspire your sight, Julie and I, to push beyond its limits, Tyler, to energize the search, Geno to interpret the information, Kuni, to follow the trail, Flower, to root out the god’s identity, and Marie-Philip to empower victory in the search. We just need you to be willing to take the chance P.K.”

P.K. lost his perpetual smile and looked at all of them seriously, “Of course I’ll do it. My great niece is coming up on her sixteenth birthday. She’s a killer D, and she deserves a shot at the NHL.”

Sidney felt relief flow through him. This could work. It _would_ work.

“Alright,” Sidney addressed the group, “Huddle up.”

Everyone drew close, huddling together in the middle of the dance floor. P.K. was the first to stick out his hand, in the middle of the huddle, and Sidney was the first to place his on top of P.K.’s, but all the rest soon followed. Sidney called up his power, concentrating on the ability to empower a player to overcome their own limits, and sent his power flowing into P.K. Sidney felt the others’ power flowing through him as well, traveling into P.K.

“Here goes,” P.K. said, eyes almost glowing with the power channeling through him. And then, Sidney felt his consciousness being pulled somewhere else.

_There was a familiar intersection in front of him, and as Sidney watched, he saw a car careening out of control, running a red light and crashing into another vehicle in the intersection. Off to the side of the crash site stood Don Cherry and another god, who seemed cloaked in shadows. The second god had a notebook in front of him. He made a notation in the book._

_“Form 306b-47f: faulty break lines.” The god said._

_Then, they were somewhere else._

_There was a young woman skating on a fresh sheet of ice, on a frozen lake. She was clearly racing with some of her friends, but not a single one could keep up with her. She laughed, calling something out in French, turning in a quick circle._

_The ice cracked ominously below her, and then she was in the water, and then gone. She didn’t come back up._

_The same shadowy god had his notebook out again. “Form 734a-66t: thin ice.”_

_Then, they were somewhere else._

_There was a woman standing on the corner of a street, her hockey bag thrown over her shoulder as she looked down at her phone. She didn’t see that car that jumped the curb and hit her._

_The same god, with the same notebook watched the scene. “Form 324s-16h: reckless driving.”_

_Then, they were somewhere else, somewhere familiar._

_There was a man, standing near the home locker room entrance at Barnabas Health Hockey Center. He looked dazed, not at all aware of his surroundings. Don Cherry tapped him on the shoulder then walked away to the now familiar shape of the shadowy god, who was writing in his familiar notebook. Sidney watched helplessly as Amanda came out of the tunnel leading to the locker room, and the man stepped forward to the rail, pulling out a gun. There were screams as Amanda went down and people ducked._

_The shadowy god continued to write. “Form 892r-45e: firearms.”_

_The scenes continued to play. Five, then ten, then twenty, then thirty – all scenes of vivacious, amazing female players, caught in a moment of tragedy, all because of Don Cherry and the shadowy god with the notebook._

_Watching the way that the second cursed god’s power took form, Sidney could only think one thing. A god that could literally rewrite reality around them with the use of_ paperwork.

_A cursed god of bureaucracy._

_Gary Bettman._

After watching the final scene, Sidney felt himself almost gasping for breath as he came back to himself. He’s eyes immediately sought out Amanda, having just witnessed the scene of her being shot. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting her expression to be, but what he saw was pure _rage_.

“Bettman,” Geno growled next to him. “It was Bettman the whole time. And we let him walk away with Cherry.”

Sidney understood his frustration. He was just as angry. But they didn’t have time to lose focus now. “Kuni, do you know where he is?”

Kuni closed his eyes for a moment, focusing his power. Sidney felt Amanda pump more power into where their hands were still clasped. Kuni frowned, and then paled a little as his eyes flew back open.

“He’s at the Staples Center.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Non-graphic violence against women and implied OFC death.


	15. Holy War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The villain is revealed, but can he be stopped?

Sidney sent word ahead to Hayley, to let her know that Bettman was the one that was hurting the female players, and was a current threat to Beverly.

‘ _The game has already started,_ ’ Hayley warned Sidney back, her prayer reverberating in his mind like a war drum. ‘ _And the arena is sold out. Everyone wants to see how the first woman in the NHL will play._ ’

He vividly remembered what happened last time the gods had confronted Don Cherry, and how the cursed god had turned them against each other. He imagined that power enraging a packed stadium, and the kind of chaos a riot of that magnitude would cause.

They had to be smart about this confrontation. They had to protect the mortal fans as well as the players. That meant they needed the confrontation to take place somewhere else, away from motrals. They needed to be smart. They needed to be tricky.

They needed a tricksters.

“Flower,” Sidney said, “The Kings are playing the Capitals, right?”

“Right,” Flower agreed, drawing the word out.

“I hate to say this,” Sidney said, “but I think we need Ovechkin.”

Ovechkin would be at his peak power while his Capitals were playing. There was only one place he was more powerful, and that would be at the Verizon Center.  All gods were able to travel near instantly, but in order to transport another god to another location, that god would need to be at the height of their power, and also moving to a place of power. Ovechkin would meet both criteria, and as a trickster god, transporting Bettman would be a pretty good prank.

Sidney prayed to Ovechkin to let him know the plan. Now Sidney just had one more prayer to send to one other god.

 

Luckily, Ovechkin did not take a lot of convincing. He was more than happy to help, especially when he found out it was Bettman they would be tricking. Ovechkin had never forgiven the cursed god from ruling that the players in the NHL should not play in the winter Olympics, back when they were still mortal. He firmly believed that he would be able to transport Bettman before he was able to stop him.

Sidney would just have to trust that he knew what his power was capable of.

Instead of going to the Staples Center like he wanted to, Sidney made himself go to the Verizon Center. Geno, Julie, and Amanda were the only ones that came with him. Geno, because he refused to let Sidney go without him, Julie, because she had already proven to be able to ward off the effects of Cherry’s influence, and Amanda, because she out of everyone deserved to be part of the confrontation. Sidney also believed that Amanda’s focusing power would allow her to throw off outside influence from other gods.

Sidney, Geno, Julie, and Amanda stood at center ice, the seat of Ovechkin power. Moments after they situated themselves, Ovechkin flashed into the room with Bettman. Sidney could see that the cursed god was obviously surprised to find himself relocated.

“Bettman,” Amanda growled.

Bettman simply looked at her and nodded his head in acknowledgement, regaining his equilibrium quickly, “Ms. Kessel.” He nodded his head at the other gods as well. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but I’m a little busy at the moment. I’d be happy to meet with you sometime next week, if you have something to discuss.

“No,” Geno said viciously, “We discuss now. We discuss how you kill female players to stop them playing in NHL.”

Bettman reared back as though struck, “That’s insane.”

“Yes,” Amanda hissed. “Let’s talk about how you tried to kill me.”

“We know it all,” Sidney said, adding, “We’ve seen you. We’ve seen your power, your notebook.”

As though the words were a jinx (did Sidney really jinx himself again?), Bettman pulled out the notebook in question. As soon as his hands touched the notebook, Sidney felt as though his whole body had turned to ice. He couldn’t move a muscle, couldn’t even blink his eyes. With his peripheral vision, Sidney could see that the others were equally frozen.

“I didn’t want it to have to come to this.” Bettman said sadly. He started turning pages in his notebook. “I really wish you hadn’t pushed me into this corner.” He gave them a chastising look of disappointment, like a parent who was forced to discipline their child for behaving badly. “Form 671p-03e: paralysis.”

“If you didn’t want to do this, then do not do it,” Ovechkin grit out. He apparently had a bit more freedom, since they were at his seat of power. It was still apparently not a match for a cursed god of Bettman’s power though.

While a traditional god gained power from the worship of their followers, a cursed god gained it through the hate of the masses. And people were always much quicker to hate than to worship, and there was none so hated as Bettman. Sidney was surprised he did not realize it was him straight away.

“Everything I have done,” Bettman said, “I have done for the good of Hockey. I have made sacrifices you know nothing about, all so that the game could thrive.”

‘ _Is he really giving an evil monologue?_ ’ Geno sent to him through prayer.

“Everything I have done is to maintain parity in the sport.” Bettman continued.

‘ _Yes, apparently he is._ ’ Sidney sent back.

“You kill female players for parity?” Ovechkin asked incredulously.

“How could the sport be fair, or equal, if I allowed them to play?” Bettman asked.

“Well,” said a new voice, “I guess we can consider that a confession then.” Mario Lemieux stepped forward, shaking his head sadly.

“I agree,” Jaromir Jagr said.

And behind both of them was the Great One, Wayne Gretzky. “Gary,” he said, “I believe we have much to talk about.”

Ina heart beat, Jagr was in front of Bettman, closing shackles around his wrists and relieving him of his notebook. Sidney felt godly wards slam down on Bettman cutting off his power. Sidney found he was able to move, and speak, again. “Glad you heard my prayer,” he told Mario.

“Sid,” Mario smiled, “I’ll always hear your prayers. Thank you for the heads up.”

Behind Gretzky came Don Cherry, escorted by Pierre McGuire, looking much smaller and subdued in the matching shackles he wore.

“Gary Bettman and Don Cherry,” Gretzky announced in a misleadingly soft voice, “You are charged with treason against Hockey.”

Bettman gave a gasp and collapsed to the ground.

Sidney wasn’t sure what had caused his collapse, Gretzky’s words or Amanda kneeing him in the balls. Sidney certainly took satisfaction in both.

The Senior Council had arrived.


	16. Heavenly Judgment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Great One, the Victor, and the Righteous have arrived.

Sidney felt the air in the arena grow heavier, more sharp and cold. He suddenly felt that there was an incredible weight on his shoulders that made him want to drop to his knees in worship. He had felt this only one other time…

When he ascended to godhood.

Gretzky was summoning the very spirit of Hockey into the arena with them, to judge Bettman and Cherry. Cherry cowered, but also looked rigid, like he was preparing for a blow that he wasn’t yet sure if he could survive. Bettman, on the other hand, started sobbing.

“Gary Bettman and Don Cherry,” Gretzky proclaimed again, “You are charged with treason against Hockey.”

The icy feel in the room changed to suddenly feeling like there were thousands of deadly sharp icicles aimed at all of their most dedicate areas. The knives of ice seemed to be evaluating Sidney briefly, before they swept away from him, leaving behind only the feeling of the gentlest of caresses on his cheek from something freezing cold.

That was Hockey; joy and violence all tied into one beautiful package that could just as easily kill you as elevate you to divine ecstasy.

Sidney felt Geno shudder next to him and the icicles left him as well. They became visible as they surrounded Bettman and Cherry.

“We are not your judges today, gentlemen.” Jagr, hockey god of the righteous, said with a scoff. “We are simply your witnesses. It is the spirit of Hockey that will decide your fate. So go ahead, explain your actions and be judged.”

The icicles solidified around Bettman and Cherry, hundreds, thousands of them pointed at each of them, about a foot from their bodies. Bettman whimpered.

“Have you murdered or crippled any mortal women who were destined to play in the NHL.” Mario had his serious game face on, standing tall and imposing, the supportive pillar that Sidney has always seen him as, ever since he was a baby and his parents dedicated Sidney to the god of winners.

“No I…” Bettman cut himself off as the ice inched forward.

“Will you lie, while on trial with the spirit if Hockey? Not a good move.” Jagr shook his head in disappointment.

“I did it,” Cherry spoke up. “I did it because I love this game more than anything, and I didn’t want to see a bunch of women destroy it.”

The ice withdrew from around Cherry, backing off. Cherry looked surprised, then pleased at this sign that Hockey might agree with him.

Sidney wouldn’t let himself doubt Hockey though. It must have a higher purpose.

Everyone looked over to Bettman, who was slowly smiling. “Yes,” He finally answered. “It was my idea to eliminate them before they could destroy the game. I knew that parity had to be prioritized over diversity. We would never have parity with women in the league. So, yes, I killed them. And not just as a god. I started when I was still mortal. I have been protecting the sanctity of hockey the whole time. There has been no one more loyal to Hockey than me!”

Sidney wanted to turn his face away in disgust. But he had to keep watching. Hockey would never condone such actions.

The ice withdrew from Bettman was well. Bettman and Cherry shared a smug, joyful look, assured that Hockey approved of their actions.

“Well, that’s harsher of a sentence than I thought.” Gretzky said, drawing the attention of the entire room.

“What do you mean?” Amanda asked. She was holding it together well, but Sidney could see the heart break in her eyes, close to believing that Hockey had pardoned the men responsible for ending her mortal life.

“Well,” Gretzky drawled, “I thought they’d be imprisoned in ice for a while, or even lose their eyes, but this is much worse.”

“Meaning?” Geno prompted as well.

“They haven’t notice yet,” Jagr said with a smirk, “Let me help.” Jagr snapped his fingers and the shackles retaining the two cursed god’s powers dropped off them.

And nothing happened.

There was no rush of power, no feeling of an absence being once more filled. There was nothing. Sidney vividly remembered the feeling of his power flowing through him once more after Kuni broke him out of the warded cell the gods of Golf had trapped him in. But here, there was no return of power.

Bettman and Cherry’s faces showed their shock and horror as they realized what this mean.

“You’re mortal again.” Mario told them. “You are mortal, and you are completely exiled from hockey in any way, shape or form.”

“E-e-exiled?” Bettman stuttered.

Gretzky explained, “If you try to go to a game, any game, you will find yourself lost, unable to enter the arena. If you try to watch in on TV, the TV will simply be unable to find the channel. You won’t be able to even read about it online. If you try to buy a stick yourself, they will always be sold out for you. You are completely exiled from all of hockey in every single shape and form it takes.”

Bettman and Cherry were openly sobbing.

The Senior Counsel left them to it and approached Sidney, Geno, Ovechkin, Julie, and Amanda.

“You kids did good,” Mario said with a smile.

Gretzky nodded, “We knew that Bettman was up to something, which is why we sent Pierre to spy on him. When we heard Bergeron’s prayer about Cherry, the pieces finally came together. We sent Bettman to retrieve Cherry, and as we thought he would, he freed him instead of bringing him in. Your prayer today was the final nail in the coffin that we needed to petition an audience with Hockey itself.”

“You should all feel very proud.” Jagr added.

Sidney sighed, “Maybe, but now, I just want to get back to the Staples Center and watch my follower score the first goal for women in the NHL.

Sidney needn’t have worried. He got back in time to see Beverly deliver a beautiful Gordie Howe Hat Trick, scoring a goal, an assist, and a fight (which damn, she cleaned the floor with the D man) all in her first game.

Sidney cheered so loud his voice almost gave out, but it was so, so worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter left! I will definitely continue to write in this universe though (and anyone else is invited to play in my sandbox with me! Just let me know if there are certain scenes or characters that you would like to see in future installments. 
> 
> Also, If I wrote an Avengers/Hockey crossover, would any one be interested? I just Really want to pair Sid up with an Avenger (probably Thor or Cap) and Geno with Black Widow. I just think it would be terribly fun. any way, I am very open to ideas, so let me know!


	17. Thy Crown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sidney watches a hockey game, he watches the world change. The two are the same thing.

Geno and Sidney sat next to each other, even though Geno was wearing his green Dallas Stars jersey with the name Tsukimoto on the back, with a number 71 under it. Sidney remembered when he first saw the young winger play in Sweden. He was one of the children that had been dedicated to Geno when he was born, and had prayed to him his entire life. Sidney loved to see the huge smile that was on Geno’s face as he watched his winger snipe in a disgusting goal, moving too quick for anyone to catch him.

Well, almost anyone.

Sidney stood with a cheer, his own grey and black Kings jersey proudly boasting the name Cruz on the back, along with the number 87. Sidney had legitimately cried when Beverly asked how he would feel about her taking the number 87 for herself. In so many ways, Sidney felt like he was watching his daughter out there on the ice, slamming Geno’s follower into the boards and slipping away with the puck.

It was the Stanley cup final. And all’s fair in love and hockey.

An excited toddler was thrust into Sidney’s lap as Suzanne stood up next to him, screaming, “Nice one baby!”

Little Hayden Sidney Cruz wasn’t so little now at three years old. “Sid!” He said happily, bouncing in his lap before snuggling into Sidney’s stomach. Sidney had reconciled himself to the fact that his heart would always melt when Hayden snuggled him. Geno made cooing noises next to him.

“Your mom is going to be a Stanley cup champion.” Sidney said with certainty. Suzanne gasped at him for the jinx, and Sidney felt a little bad for saying it, but she would. After only three years with the Kings she was now the first female captain as well. Hayley was thrilled! Sidney had spotted her a few rows over from them, practically strangling Julie as she hung off of her.

Amanda and Hilary were at the end of the row, Hilary trying her best to initiate some complicated make out session that seemed to also involve Jamie and Tyler. Sidney’s face flushed hot just thinking about what those four were getting up to. Best not to think about it.

“What make you blush?” Geno whispered in Sidney’s ear. Sidney shivered. There was a child in his lap, shame on Geno for trying to use _that_ voice on him.

“Just thinking about winning our bet tonight.” Sidney said slyly.

Geno’s eyes dilated. “When my team wins, I do whatever you tell me tonight.”

“I think,” Sidney corrected, “That when my team wins the cup, we are going to do whatever you want tonight.” It was a nice bet to have, to make sure that the loser was actually a winner too in the end.

Geno growled, but they both turned back to the game that would be making history, one way or another. Either the first Asian captain to win the cup, of the first female captain to with the cup. Either way, the NHL would be taking a step forward tonight, at game 7 of the finals.

Sidney knew who he wanted to win, but he was content to know that the changes had already started in the NHL. Beverly is paving the way for other women to demand their right to the draft and to training camps.  They know that they are good, and they know that they deserve a shot, and they are finally refusing to let those doors close in their face. Instead, they are beating those same doors down.

The game has gone into overtime. Everything is decided in the last moments.

And then, it happens.

The puck is shot, a goalie is just s second too slow, and the goes into the net.

The announcer blast the horn over head, “That’s it! That’s it! The LA Kings are Stanley Cup Champions!

In that moment, with the cheering around them, Sidney felt more powerful than he had in a very long time. He felt encompassing and protective and possessive, just as he had when he was a mortal winning the cup.

He watched happily as the cup was brought forward, and then the cup was handed to Beverly, first woman in the NHL, first female captain, and first female player to touch the Stanley Cup.

Sidney watched his follower hoist the cup and takes her victory lap. He could feel the power of the cup through the bond that he shared with Beverly. It was a beautiful feeling.

The players families were ushered down to the ice and Sidney followed. Geno side tracked to speak with the other team’s captain, his follower. Sidney decided to give them some privacy.

Sidney could see the Cruz family, huddled together. Watched Suzanne’s caramel colored hand grab onto Beverly’s darker one. Little Hayden looked just like his mother Suzanne, but with a darker skin tone from the donor that the two women used. Hayden pulled on Beverly’s braids before snuggling into her chest. They were a beautiful family. They deserved nothing but happiness. And Sidney would be there each step of the way to make sure they were able to enjoy that happiness.

Beverly looked up, spying him, “Sid! And Hayley! Get over hear you two!” Sidney turned to see Hayley next to him. They shared a smile. Who would have thought that they would come so far when Sidney first heard Hayley’s prayer three and a half years ago. Some things will always be worth the risk.

Geno came up behind him. “Hilary and Amanda,” Geno whispered, because he was such a gossip, “they are going home with Tyler and Jamie. We invited too, if you want.”

Sidney was startled, “Um… do you want to?”

Geno grinned, “I remember nighttime cup celebration in 2017.”

Sidney’s face hearted up at those words alone. “Well,” said Sidney, “You’re in charge tonight. If you want to spend part of the night with those four, I’m definitely not against it (they were all ridiculously good at hockey, and that would always be Sidney’s biggest kink).

Geno grinned eagerly, “I go tell them!” He sped off, weaving through the crowd with remarkable dexterity given his size.

Sidney turned to look at the cup one more time, with Beverly and Suzanne kissing over it, while little Hayden sat in the cup. It’s the picture that would be emblazoned across every sports media page for days to come.

Sidney smiled and let out a breath. His followers were safe, his friends were happy, and it seemed that he was about to join a divine orgy full of hot gods and goddess.

Life was good.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to give you the last chapter early. Please let know know if you have any scenes or stories you would like to see happen in this universe, because I am definitely happy to continue this series. Also, I give blanket permission to use any of these ideas or characters in your own stories. Just let me know because I would love to read it!
> 
> Thanks so much for sticking with me, and I hope you enjoyed the ride.
> 
> Also, please chime in on the idea of me writing a Avengers/Hockey crossover. I really like the idea of Sid being paired with an avenger, but I am open to it being endgame Sid/Geno as some suggested, They avenger I was most interested in paring Sid with was Thor or Cap, but it has been suggested to pair him with Tony or Loki. Just let me know you opinions on the matter, I could maybe do a series of stories instead of one big one again, if you like. Please just give my your feedback/interest,


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